


Awkward

by pinkamour1588



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 12:09:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11463315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkamour1588/pseuds/pinkamour1588
Summary: Confession of feelings and semi-awkward first date with Leonard McCoy.





	Awkward

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on my tumblr account.

“So, what are you up to this evening?” you asked when you caught up with him.

“Well, I would study for that tactics exam but Jim’s probably going to try to drag me out to a bar,” he shrugged.

“Do you want to come by my place?”

“Don’t you have plans with what’s his face?”

“Nah, I turned him down.”

Leonard looked over at you and raised an eyebrow. “He’s been hitting on you for nearly two weeks.”

“Your point?”

“Have you just bene stringing him along?”

“I’ve been turning him down every time he asks me out. Not my fault he’s persistent.”

“You should go out with him. He clearly likes you and seems like a decent guy.”

“And I don’t like him. I have my eye on someone else.”

“Oh, do you now? Why haven’t asked him out?”

“Because it’s not time to yet,” you answered before splitting off from him. “See you at seven?”

“Yeah, unless Jim physically drags me out,” he called after you.

~~~

That evening, you made sure everything was in place before changing out of your uniform.

“Are you really kicking me out for the night?” Elise asked from where she sat on her bed.

“Just until, like, ten,” you answered pulling on a t-shirt.

She glared at you, then sighed. “When are you going to ask him out officially?”

“Soon, I hope.” You looked over at her then added, “He asked why I wasn’t going out with Watson tonight.”

“And you lied?”

“Only by omission. I told Leonard I like someone else.”

“Remind me again why you’re holding off telling him how you feel?”

“Cynical about love divorcé with a child.”

“Ah, yes. And remind me again why you want to date a cynical divorcé with a child?”

“Because when you get past the whole cynicism he’s actually a pretty amazing person.”

“I’m all for doing what you want but going after him just seems like a heartache waiting to happen.”

“That’s why I’m being careful and not throwing myself at him.”

“But you’re progressively setting him up. What happens if you ask him out and he turns you down?”

“I’ll cross that bridge if I get to it. I live my life under a perpetual state of ‘what if’. I’m trying not to do that with this.”

“Just be careful, and ask him out soon.” With that, she stood, gathered her things to study in the library, gave you a hug, and left.

You sat for the next fifteen minutes in silence, trying not to think about what Elise said too much. A little after seven, the alarm on the door rang and you went to answer it.

“Sorry I’m late. Jim kept bugging me about how I’m studying with you rather than going out with him,” Leonard said as he walked in.

“For how big a nerd he is, he’s really opposed to studying,” you laughed as you sat down on your bed.

“He manages though, which is a bit unfair.” Leonard sat at your desk and pulled out his PADD.

The two of you spent the next two hours studying bet taking turns quizzing each other. Around nine o'clock you flopped back on your bed over dramatically exhausted after answering one of the questions.

“Sick of having me around?” he joked.

You looked over at him. “Never. I am, however, sick of studying.”

“Then I suppose we should pack it in for the night.” He put his things away and then went to get up to leave.

“Stay. I think I have some whiskey my brother-in-law sent me.” You got up and went to your closet getting a bottle of whiskey out. Without asking, you poured him a glass and handed it to him when he sat down before pouring some for yourself.

“Do you just assume all your male guests drink whiskey and drink it neat?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t have many male guests besides you and I’ve seen you drink whiskey enough to know how you take it.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I barely drink around you. Jim sees me drink more often and even he couldn’t tell me how I take my whiskey.”

“Yeah, well, Jim’s pretty preoccupied by other things,” you answered taking a rather large gulp of your whiskey, almost having to keep yourself from just drinking the whole thing at once.

“Are you not? You barely graduated college before entering Starfleet. You study more than almost everyone I know.”

“You barely finished med school before entering Starfleet, and you study just as much as me.” you were starting to panic.

“I was finishing my residency and had a life outside of school.”

“And I was finishing my internship and had a life outside of school.”

“You were 23. I was 28.”

“What difference does our ages make?”

“Nothing I suppose, but my point being, you of all people should be more preoccupied and know fewer irrelevant details about your friends based on how much effort you put into your schoolwork.”

You just stared back at him. You wanted to say it but you just couldn’t bring yourself to. “Do you know why I turned Watson down when he asked me out?” you asked.

“You said you have your eye on someone else.”

You sighed, knocked back the rest of your whiskey, and looked down at your hands. “I turned him down because I would rather spend my night in my pajamas studying with cynical man than get dressed up and go to whatever fancy restaurant Watson would have taken me to.”

The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop, and you couldn’t bring yourself to so much as glance at him. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“You don’t want me,” he said after what felt like forever, breaking the silence.

“And if I do?” you asked softly, picking at a loose thread on your t-shirt.

“Then you’re out of your mind.”

“Why?” you whispered.

“Because you deserve better than damaged goods.”

“But you’re not.”

“I filed for divorce from my high school sweetheart when I was barely 28. I got completely cleaned out and was left with pretty much nothing but my name, clothes, and medical license. You deserve a guy who actually has something to his name, which I do not.”

You lifted your head and looked over at him. “So what? Clearly, I don’t care about those things. Who are you to dictate what kind of man I should be with?” Tears started stinging your eyes as you added, “If you don’t want to go out on a date with me, just say so. But don’t make up excuses and tell me you’re damaged goods and what I deserve in a man. Because I don’t believe you’re damaged goods and I can decide for myself what kind of man I want and deserve.” Your vision got blurry as tears started running down your face and you hastily wiped them away.

He was silent for a moment, then sighed. “Why? Why do you want to go out with me?”

“Because you’re a good man. You care about people, and take no shit from them. As much as your roommate pisses you off, you still care about his wellbeing. Because I know if I ever needed someone, I could call you no questions asked. Because you’re intelligent and funny and witty. You make me laugh and challenge me intellectually. You make me want to be a better person. Because despite your hard façade, you are actually more sensitive than you let on. Should I go on?”

“No.”

“So will you go out on a date with me?”

“Are you completely sure?”

“Completely,” you nodded.

“Then, yes.”

You stared at him wide eyed, strangely shocked by his response.

“When?”

“Uh, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead,” you answered.

“I can tell.”

“Does, um, tomorrow work?”

“What time?”

“Six?”

“Then six o’clock it is.”

***

The next evening, you stood in your room changing your shirt for the third time.

“What about this one? Or is there too little cleavage?” you asked looking over at Elise.

“I liked the cranberry one,” she answered, a little exasperated by how much you were overthinking this.

“But you said that one shows a lot of cleavage.”

“Exactly. You have awesome boobs. Rock them.”

You hesitated, then changed back into the three-quarter sleeved dark cranberry colored shirt. Elise helped you make sure your hair and makeup were acceptable before letting you have some time to panic about how this date could go wrong. After what felt like only a few minutes, the alarm at the door sounded. You stood and answered it anxiously.

“Are you ready?” Leonard asked when the door opened.

“Yeah,” you nodded, grabbing your purse and waving goodbye to Elise. Leonard and you walked in silence for a bit before you said, “So, um, how has your day been?”

“I spent this morning taking care of a hungover Jim, but otherwise, it’s been nice. Yours?”

“Same.”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“I mean, besides the whole hungover roommate part. My day has been nice.” You could feel a flush creeping up your neck and was grateful for the dim lighting.

“What have you been up to?”

“Um, I studied and called my parents. And got ready for our date.” The phrase “our date” felt foreign on your lips. “What about you?”

“I managed a fifteen-minute call with Joanna this afternoon.” You looked over and saw the bittersweet smile on his face.

“How is she?”

“She’s good. Asked when I’m going to visit.”

“What did you tell her?”

He let out a sigh. “I told her to ask her mama.”

You nodded, unsure how to respond. It wasn’t until the two of you were seated in a booth in a diner just off campus that the silence was broken again.

“Have you been here before?” he asked.

You nodded.

“What do you recommend?”

“The burgers are good.” You kept your eyes focused down on the menu in front of you.

A few minutes later, the waitress, Alyssa, came over and took your food and drink orders.

“Have you been on a date before?” Leonard asked quietly after Alyssa walked away after bringing us your drinks.

“No. What gave it away?”

“Normally you rarely stop talking and you’ve barely said a word this evening.”

“God, I’m screwing this up, aren’t I?” you muttered.

“No, I think you’re just trying too hard. I mean, I’m not all that familiar with how dates are supposed to go since I haven’t been on one in years, but your date not talking is generally not a good thing.”

“I just don’t want to mess up. I’d rather my first date ever not be a complete disaster.”

“What if you don’t think of it as a date?”

You looked up at wide eyed. “Do you not want this to be?” you asked panicking.

“Breathe. It’s still a date. I’m just saying you could try to not focus on that aspect so much.”

“It’s hard not to.

He looked at you thoughtfully for a minute then asked, “Can I ask how long you’ve wanted to ask me out?”

Your cheeks reddened. “Three months.”

He let out a small laugh and smiled at you. “You’ve wanted to ask me out for three months and only did it yesterday?”

You looked down at your lap, picking at your nails. “You’re rather cynical about love. I was scared you’d say no. And you almost did.”

He rested one hand in the middle of the table, palm side up. You stared at it for a minute before hesitantly reaching over and resting one of your hands just barely on his, only part of your fingers on his. With his free hand, he gently grabbed your wrist and slid your hand over until it was properly on top of his, then let go of your wrist. You could feel his middle and index fingers resting against your wrist, perfectly placed where he could feel your racing pulse.

“Your heart is racing,” he commented as his thumb moved to rest on top of your hand.

“I hadn’t noticed,” you mumbled sarcastically, not looking up from your lap.

“Why?” His voice was soft and patient.

“I’m nervous.”

“I make you nervous or the situation makes you nervous?”

“Being in this situation with you.”

“Why? We’re friends.”

“Because I like you, Leonard, and no matter how much I try to ignore the fact this is a date, I can’t.” You lifted your head enough to look at your hands. “I honestly didn’t think I’d make it this far. With any man I’m attracted to.”

“Want to know a secret?”

“Hm?”

“I never thought I’d have a woman interested in going on a date with me after Jocelyn.”

“Have you looked in the mirror?” you scoffed.

“Have  _you_  looked in the mirror?” he laughed.

“I wasn’t fishing for a compliment.”

“Yet you took it as one.”

“Because I’m not an idiot.” Then you froze for a moment. “Wait. This isn’t a pity date, right?”

“You most certainly aren’t an idiot. And this is absolutely not a pity date.” His thumb rubbed against the back of your hand and you swear your heart skipped beat.

“Do-do you think you, uh, you might, um…” you stammered.

“I probably wouldn’t’ve said yes if I didn’t think there was a possibility.”

you kept your eyes focused on your hands until he reached over and nudged your chin up so you was looking at him.

“You sure you’re alright? We could see if we could get our food to go.” His eyebrows were furrowed.

“No. I mean, yes, I’m alright. No, we don’t need to leave.” Then you sighed, looked down, and muttered, “I’m fucking this up so much,” as you tried to pull away from him but he held tight to your hand.

“Nothing like a woman with a brilliant mind who’s not afraid to say 'fuck’,” he laughed.

“Nothing like a southern gentleman who says 'fuck’.”

“Oh, so I’m a gentleman now?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You’re a gentleman when you’re not being an asshole, and sometimes even then you’re a gentleman.”

He grinned just as Alyssa walked over and put your food in front of us. You pulled your hand away and started eating.

“Shit,” you groaned a few minutes later when a bit of barbecue sauce dripping off your burger and got of your shirt.

Leonard smiled and handed you a napkin. You did your best to wipe the barbecue sauce off your shirt, managing to get most of it.

“I’m having a nice time,” he said suddenly.

“Me too,” you nodded, avoiding making direct eye contact for too long.

“Do you want to go back to my dorm after this?”

You looked up from your plate, dropping the French fry that was halfway to your mouth.

“Oh, god, I didn’t mean like that,” he said quickly, “I meant that Jim’s out tonight so we would have the place to ourselves…”

You continued staring at him wide eyed.

“Shit, this is getting worse.” His cheeks were starting to redden and he looked down for a moment before looking back at you. “Not sex. I’m not proposing sex. I was thinking a movie. And maybe a drink.”

You blinked a few times, processing what he’d said, then nodded. “I’d like that.”

He sighed in relief.

“You’re still blushing,” you commented as you went back to eating.

“Sounding like you’re proposing sex on a first date can do that to you,” he grumbled, the flush that had been fading in his cheeks began to appear again.

“It’s cute.”

“Cute?”

“Yeah, cute. You know, like adorable.”

“Adorable?”

“Are you having issues with the English language?”

“Not at all. I’ve just never been called cute or adorable before. I mean, besides by my mom, and even that was years ago.”

“That’s tragic.”

“When’s the last time you got called cute?”

“In the adorable sense of the word? I’m not sure.”

“That’s tragic.”

“I know. I’m fucking adorable,” you smiled.

“Precisely,” he laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://pinkamour1588.tumblr.com)


End file.
